


be around

by chavas



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Acceptance, if remake doesnt do right by us so help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28909629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chavas/pseuds/chavas
Summary: Cloud gets to say goodbye.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Cloud Strife
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	be around

He is warm.

It isn’t a fleeting spring warmth, one quick to be replaced with a breeze. It is bone-deep. It softens calluses to nothingness and holds the human condition in the palm of its hand. It isn’t adrenaline, nor is it panic or hatred; it is simply warmth.

The warmth takes Cloud by the hand and leads him to sit in the shade of a tree. There he is touched by the smell of honey and something floral. When he rubs his thumb against his pointer finger, he feels the silk of a petal between them. He lets himself bathe in the smell of the world for a moment.

He opens his eyes to crystalline skies and a giggle. He knows who it is, doesn’t even have to look. But, _oh,_ he wants to. His heart lurches in his chest at the sight of eyes. Her eyes are greener than anything around him, even if he’s caught glimpses of the lushest garden he could ever imagine.

He wants to ask. “Am I?” His voice is hesitant. He doesn’t want to move or breathe, or even blink, for fear that Aerith will disappear right before his very eyes.

“No,” she says, and she moves herself closer to him. She is always beside him. “You can’t stay here for very long.”

There is a bitter taste at the back of his tongue, something like blood and loss. “Are you real?”

“I’m real, Cloud.”

His hand reaches for her before he can even think, finding the skin of her wrist. She’s not going to disappear this time. He then pulls away, as if set on fire. It was ironic, really, considering the lake where he put her to rest.

He wants to tell her everything. He wants to tell her that he loves her, but his jaw stays locked tight, words dying before they can pass through their gate. He didn’t _deserve_ to hold her or to love her. Not after he-

She took his hand. She fiddled with their fingers until they were comfortably intertwined, though they were miles and miles apart now.

“You’re going to be okay.”

The warmth in his chest turns to hurt, to _longing. How?_ He voices it. “I don’t think I know what that means.”

“Then you will.” 

Her voice is light, as if she didn’t bleed away in his arms and then disappear. He saw her smile at him and then saw the light leave her eyes. It makes his throat burn. He wants to scream and cry and suffer in her place.

“I wanted to find you here. I knew this was the only place I could.” He can’t say it in full. What he does speak screams for her to _listen. Hear what I’m saying to you._

She hums, looking out, “Maybe this isn’t the promised land. Maybe this is somewhere in your heart.” Her lips twitch upward, eyes all-seeing. “Not a cloud in the sky today.”

“How can you look at me?” He asks. It was long ago when his heart broke in his chest, but it still aches. “Looking at you is easier than looking at myself in the mirror. _I let you die._ ”

“Cloud.” She looks at him. He looks away. Shame burns him up from the inside and tinges his cheeks. She cups his face, and then he’s looking back at her. It hurts him to look and yet it hurts to look anywhere else. 

After knowing her, how can he be without her?

“Start with a window. Look through and see to the other side. Then a river. When you can look in the mirror again you won’t see me at all.”

He opens his mouth, but chokes on words unknown to him as she thumbs a lone tear away. 

“I’ll always see you,” he manages.

“Maybe,” her touch lingers, “but you’ll forgive yourself one day. And your memories will be had in peace rather than in remorse.”

It’s a physical ache to which justice can’t be done. Not by anyone, but never by Cloud. His voice is unsteady, afraid. “How?”

“I never blamed you.” He hears her silent message unbidden. _There’s nothing to forgive._

He breathes out.

He doesn’t believe it yet. He doesn’t know when he will. But for now, while Aerith is still here and real and _touching him,_ he’ll start to try. For now, it will be for her. Tomorrow, she may wish it to be for something else, but he’ll let himself breathe.

He kisses the inside of her palm. She smiles. He holds her with his broken hands, he _lets_ himself hold. For a second, he looks at himself in her eyes rather than at their green.

“I think I’ll always love you.”

If she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it. But she breathes, and he feels something lifted from his shoulders.

“You’re so silly, Cloud. I told you-”

“It’s one thing I know is real.”

She presses her forehead to his shoulder. “I love you too.”

They sit for a while. The sun shifts in the sky until there’s a canvas of colors before them. He never lets go of her hand.

“When we see each other again I bet you’ll have a lot to tell me,” she says. He doesn’t want to let go. Not ever. 

She kisses the corner of his mouth for a moment, but it will be his eternity.

He finds himself comforted by the warmth as she walks off into the sun. He stares until her halo is all he can see.

“I’ll see you there.”

And he did.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i'll leave it up to interpretation when this takes place because honestly i have no idea.


End file.
